Chile has been a second home to me, since 1976. It’s been a love-hate relationship. The beauty of the landscape, the simplicity of daily living, attracted from day one. At the same time, the people I have been closest here are blind to the country’s realities. The realities that hurled this long slender borders into a dreadful dictatorship for 13 years. An iron-fisted rule put into place for the landed gentry, to subjugate and place the lower class in a position of second class under appreciated and stripped of their dignity. A people, dependent on their wages for their livelihood, never having the opportunity to climb the ladder of socio economic success. Tempered with time, like everywhere, racism, discrimination and servitude are persistently rooted below the surface. Those who are looked down upon must bow their head, be humble and be grateful for their material existence in this god forsaken place. Gratitude is purchased, humility, mandatory. A place where one just can’t help who, nor what they are or become.
On Tiffany Creek 